


The Aftermath

by Blythegirl21



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blythegirl21/pseuds/Blythegirl21
Summary: After the Final Problem, Sherlock goes to Molly to explain what happened and why he said what he did. Meanwhile, Molly struggles with her feelings towards Sherlock.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Kudos: 38





	The Aftermath

Molly hadn't really talked to Sherlock since the Sherrinford Incident. Mycroft had called her saying she should go over and talk with his younger brother. At first she was reluctant, maybe that phone call was just what she needed to begin letting Sherlock go, but Mycroft was insistent. Not that it made her listen to him. There was no way she would go to 221b and beg Sherlock for an explanation. If he wanted to talk to her, he would have to be the one to reach out first.  
To her surprise, Sherlock did just that. He called her a few times, leaving her several voicemails pleading for a chance to talk, which was very unlike him. Still, Molly had still been too embarrassed to face him. Despite being alone in her kitchen at the time of the call, the shame of it all still stung. There were many things she could forgive Sherlock Holmes for but she wasn't sure if this was one of them. 

She was sitting alone, again, a cup of tea going cold on the coffee table in front of her. She was going through paperwork from the morgue that she had fallen behind on. It had been hard to focus on anything but the memory of Sherlock’s voice when he told her he loved her. Although she had said it back, she wasn’t entirely sure if she meant it anymore. 

Who was she kidding? Of course she meant it. She had always meant it. She had loved him since the day she met him. She only wished that he had meant it too.  
The doorbell rang, disturbing her thoughts before they could wander further from her work. She got up with a sigh and checked her phone. As a security measure, she had asked all her friends and family to text her once they were outside her flat. She didn’t trust the doorbell anymore unless she was expecting someone and even then, she preferred a call before hand. She hadn’t planned for any visitors today but Mycroft had told her to expect him sometime during the week. Sure enough, his name popped up on her phone screen along with a message, “I’ll owe you one after this.”

Confused and with a growing knot in her stomach, she looked through the peephole. Mycroft was nowhere to be seen but the sight of another familiar Holmes brother made her heart leap traitorously.  
“Molly? Are you there?”  
She took a step back from the door. Maybe he hadn’t heard her walk to the door? Maybe he hadn’t seen her shadow pass through the peephole? Who was she kidding? She’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear her heart racing from the other side.  
“Molly?” He asked again, his voice softer, “I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to talk with you for a moment. There are some things I need to clarify with you.”

She took a deep breath. She’d imagined this scene a thousand times and now that it was here she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready. But here he was standing outside her door like a nervous school-boy.

The door seemed to open by itself revealing Sherlock in his usual attire, long black coat, black trousers and blue scarf. The air was cold and she could see the wisps of smoke blowing out of his mouth, a tentative smile playing at his lips.

“Hello Molly.” He greeted gently, his gaze fixed on hers.  
“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.  
All trace of a smile vanished from his lips, “I was hoping we could talk. I believe I owe you an explanation. And an apology.”  
Without a word, she nodded and stepped aside to let him in. He gave her a quick, polite smile and headed off down the hallway. When she followed him into the lounge room, he stood waiting for her as if he was unsure where he should place himself and if he should sit or stand.  
She walked past him to the kitchen, arms folded as she took her place behind the kitchen bench.  
“What do you want Sherlock?” She asked, her voice even.  
“To explain what happened that day.” He replied truthfully, “Do you mind if I sit down? It’s a bit of a long story.”  
She shrugged and nodded. He made a beeline for his usual spot on her sofa, leaving a space for her to join him too.  
“Shall I put on a spot of tea?” The words were out of her mouth before she knew it but the familiar sight of him sitting on her couch made the words spill so easily out of her mouth. God, she hated him.  
“Only if you’re having one.”  
She nodded and immediately set to work getting the cups out of the cupboard. He was out of his seat immediately.  
“Let me give you a hand.”  
“No.” She held up her hand to him, “I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own, thank you.”  
A look of surprise and hurt flashed briefly across his face. Maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at him. ‘No,’ she thought, ‘he deserved exactly what he was getting.’

They said nothing as the kettle boiled and the tea brewed. She tried to hide the fact her hands were trembling as she took both mugs of tea into the lounge room. He took his from her grasp before she had a chance to set it on the coffee table in front of him. That small brush of hands was almost enough to make her spill her own cup of tea. Instead, she set it on the table and settled down in her favourite armchair. Well, technically it was her only armchair as her apartment wasn’t big enough to fit in more than one but she’d had it for a while and was a nice piece of furniture. Eventually the silence was too grim to bear.  
“Tell me why you made me do it.” She said, fighting to keep the tremble out of her voice.  
He cleared his throat and took another sip of tea.  
“Tell me why Sherlock.” She said, her voice louder and more determined, “And don’t give me any bullshit excuses.”  
Sherlock set down his tea, “In your conversations with Mycroft after the incident, did he ever tell you about our sister?”  
…  
Neither of them watched the clock as the time went by and Sherlock gave his version of events. Mycroft had told her most of it but she needed to hear it from Sherlock as well.  
"So, do you think you’ll go back to Sherrinford?" She asked at last.  
“Yes.”  
“Aren’t you scared that she might do the same thing again? Or maybe try something worse?”  
He shook his head, “I don’t think so. But if she does, I want to be better prepared for it.”  
“It’s just like that with you Holmes siblings isn’t it? You play all sorts of dangerous games with each other.”  
“Well we have to keep each other on our toes somehow.” He gave a small smirk.  
Molly couldn’t resist a slight smile.  
“Well, hopefully if you visit her more often, she won’t get so out of control.”  
“That’s the plan. Well, It’s Mycroft’s plan anyway so if things go wrong, it can only be expected.”  
Despite herself, she let out a small chuckle. Sherlock let a small smile slip through too.

There was a brief silence so he spoke up.

“I meant what I said Molly, I do love you. But I’m still in the process of figuring out what that means.”  
She nodded, finally coming over to the couch and sitting beside him. Gently, she took his hands in hers.  
“And I love you Sherlock.” She didn’t imagine she would ever say those words to him again, yet here she was, tears in her eyes, his hands warm in hers. He gave her hand a squeeze and she mustered the last scraps of her courage.  
“I need time to sort through all this. What you’ve told me and what you just said.” She let go of his hands and returned her own to her lap.  
“Of course.” He nodded and politely folded his hands over his lap as well. “I should get going. I promised John I would help look after Rosie tonight.”  
Molly nodded and stood up with him, unsure of what else to do.  
“Thank you for your honesty Sherlock. After everything, I appreciate it.”  
“You’re welcome, Molly. I’m only sorry I didn’t get to tell you sooner.”  
She nodded, not quite meeting his gaze.  
“I don’t know if there’s anything that can make up for what I did but if you think of anything, let me know.”  
“I will.” She kept nodding. “Goodbye Sherlock.”  
“Bye Molly.”  
“I’ll probably see you around anyway. Now that you’re not occupied playing games with your sister, I expect Greg will be wanting your help at Scotland Yard again.”  
Sherlock allowed himself another smile, bigger this time.  
“Indeed.” He turned back to Molly, “And I’ll always be glad to see you Molly Hooper.”  
She looked up at him then, meeting his blue-grey eyes for the first time that afternoon. She gave him the remnants of a smile.  
“See you soon Sherlock.”  
“See you soon. Molly.”  
He gave her a tentative kiss on the cheek and swept out the front door into the icy London winter.

Even though she hated him, it turned out she still loved him too. Perhaps not in the same capacity as she used to but she didn’t have to figure that out right now. For the moment, she would pour herself a nice glass of wine, watch an episode of the Glee re-run on TV and settle back into work. There was plenty of time to think about Sherlock and the capacity in which he loved her later. For now, she was happy just knowing that some way, somehow, he had opened his heart to love and today, that was enough.


End file.
